The musings of an anti-social socialite

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Do you ever feel like you’re just waiting for your life to start? When we’re little we always have such strong notions of what we want to be when we grow up, but now that we’re there… now what? This is what I’ve been thinking about lately, because the younger me that made the plans and had the goals, well they just don’t exist anymore, and all the things I’d thought I’d accomplish just don’t seem all that enjoyable anymore.

I do think it’s ok to still want unrealistic things. I know alot of people don’t agree with me there, especially my friends and family who look at the me that spends days working on a new song, and worries I’m wasting my life… but aren’t I allowed to? As children we’re encouraged to want to be astronauts and pilots and marry a prince, but if we carry the same dreams and desires as we grow, plans that used to be greeted with smiles somehow transforms into “Isn’t it about time you grew up?”.

But why should I? If the fantasy is inevitably better than the reality, isn’t it more fulfilling to choose the former? Isn’t my quality of like only defined by MY own perception and mine alone?